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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136813">So You Want to Play Matchmaker?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crapfaerie/pseuds/crapfaerie'>crapfaerie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Attempt at Humor, Cheesy, Cliche, Harry Potter loves Soap Operas, Hogwarts Eighth Year, KNIFE MONOPOLY, M/M, Matchmaking, Minor Neville Longbottom/Blaise Zabini, Soap Opera</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:29:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,354</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136813</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crapfaerie/pseuds/crapfaerie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is going to keep his crush on Seamus a secret for all eternity. Harry has other ideas.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>167</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>So You Want to Play Matchmaker?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>mega huge thanks to Taña for being such an amzing beta!!! this fic wouldn't have turned out so sweet if it weren't for you &lt;3</p><p>- harry being a dramatic shit<br/>- dean just tryna live his life<br/>- ron and neville putting up with harry's shit bc they good friends<br/>- draco also being a dramatic shit</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"This is stupid." </p><p>"Dean Thomas. You have officially run out of excuses." Harry groans as the Gryffindor in  question screams into Neville's Hippogriff-feather stuffed pillow.<br/>
Yeah, the one his  grandmother gifted him last Christmas with a note saying 'you probably need a good pillow  after all that Nagini chopping' or something like that. Harry's not sure what exactly. Cursive  is hard to read. </p><p>The pillow is unfairly soft – for something made of Hippogriff. Harry’s been considering  getting a few of them for himself. And Dean, seeing as the man used it more than Neville did. </p><p>Harry and Dean were alone in their dormitory – which was something that happened way too  much, considering how many others they shared the room with.  </p><p>The Slytherins, Zabini and Nott almost never stayed there, preferring to crash either Malfoy’s  or Parkinson’s dorm. No one knows where Ernie goes. Just that he attended classes and ate at  the Great Hall. If you tried to find him outside of that, well, good luck. </p><p>Seamus had taken up an apprenticeship under renowned Pyrotechnician, Damini Inigo, which meant he was probably out blowing stuff up at the moment.<br/>
Neville was gallivanting with his beu whose name he’d refused to disclose. “Find out yourself, if you want to,” he’d said,  rather smugly. And while Harry had every intention of doing so, he felt Dean’s dilemma couldn’t wait. </p><p>…Which provided great opportunities for Harry to corner Dean about his crush on Seamus. </p><p>Dean had been pining over Seamus for what felt like forever. Harry couldn’t understand why  he couldn’t ask the other bloke out. They were practically a married couple!<br/>
Harry had said  this to Dean more times than he could count, but the Gryffindor wouldn’t budge, always coming up with some ridiculous excuse that made Harry want to bang his head on the headboard.  </p><p>The only reason Harry hadn’t gone ahead and told Seamus himself was because Dean knew  who Harry liked. And there was no doubt Dean would spill to Harry’s object of affection the  moment Harry did his. He had pointed out multiple times that Harry was a hypocrite for  pushing Dean to profess to his ‘one true love’ and not do it himself.  </p><p>Yeah, Harry thought. He was just waiting for the right moment. He wasn’t exactly <i>friends </i>with his crush. Things were rocky and often awkward, but hey, at least they weren’t at each  other’s throats anymore. </p><p>Harry never really knew where he stood in Malfoy’s life. Just that  he’d sent one of those paper cranes to Harry, almost a week after they started eighth year. After a week of dodging each other like bludgers.</p><p><i>‘I don’t hate you.’</i> </p><p>To which Harry sent a hastily folded… err… finger puppet toucan. ‘<i>I don’t hate you either.’</i></p><p>Malfoy’s response had been, <i>‘Whoever taught you how to fold birds should be in hell.’ </i>At least they had some sort of a correspondence going on, right? </p><p>Dean, on the other hand, was blatantly trying to avoid it. Thus the sticky situation they were  in.  </p><p>"You <i>have</i> to tell him." Harry says, feeling like tearing his hair out. "Otherwise you're going  to end up marrying your best friend's sister and having three, horribly named children - the  second of which will become best friends with your crush's son. </p><p>Which means you will see him all the time but never actually get to ask him out because he's  mourning the loss of his beautiful wife and you're just his son's best friend's dick dad." </p><p>Dean frowns. "That was oddly specific, mate you okay?" then he adds, “Did you get that  from another one of your weird dreams again?” </p><p>"No!" Harry flings himself on the bed, draping a hand elegantly over his forehead. "I'm not okay, Dean. How can I be okay when my friend is pining over my other friend who is also pining over him?" Harry piously ignores the part about the weird dreams.<br/>
Harry often had dreams in which he was some sort of alternate dimension. Sometimes his parents were alive. Sometimes he had a wife. Sometimes he was a fucking giant squid. It was another thing Dean mercilessly teased him about. </p><p>Harry knows that sort of dramatic behaviour always made his friend smile. Even if Dean  wouldn’t admit it, he loved theatrics as much as Harry did. It was one of the things they did  on Harry &amp; Dean Nights… along with boy talk and baking cupcakes. </p><p>Dean chucks Neville's Hippogriff-feather pillow at Harry's head. He's good at throwing,  which Harry thinks is really unfair, for someone who doesn’t play Quidditch anymore.<br/>
Maybe Harry could convince Dean to join the eighth year team he and Ron were trying to  make.  </p><p>"You need to stop watching those soap operas. You're turning into my auntie Matilda." </p><p>The pillow hits him square on the face. Somehow Harry ended up with a mouthful of pillow.  He can hear Dean’s guffaws as he sputters out a few stray feathers that managed to land in his  mouth. Fuck Neville for never mending that tear, Harry thinks fondly.  </p><p>Trying for a counter attack, Harry throws the pillow back at Dean. It lands on Blaise's bed,  though. Four beds from his target. So much for perfect aim, Harry thinks. No wonder he  never got chosen to be a Chaser.  </p><p>Harry decides to shout out "I've had tea with your auntie Matilda, Dean. That was a  compliment.” Because there was less chance of him losing anymore of his dignity. Well,  whatever dignity Harry had left after nearly seven years with the Gryffindor’s.  </p><p>Believe Harry when he says the amount of clothes that gets chucked out of the tower  windows is a much larger value than considered normal.<br/>
This Christmas, they covered all the beds in wrapping paper. The harvest festival, on the other hand, was one feathery affair.</p><p>Dean doesn’t reply, but Harry knows he’s probably smothering a laugh. Harry thinks this is a good chance to ask Dean again. He figures another try wouldn’t hurt. Much. </p><p>"Dean, come on. You're better than this. Where's your Gryffindor courage?" Please work. Please work. Please work. </p><p>"I left it at the Great Hall. Let me go get it so I can chuck it out the window." Harry  can <i>feel </i>Dean rolling his eyes. And the man was four beds away! </p><p>"<i>Dean.</i>" Harry says, hoping he sounds like the disproving mother-in-law character from his  favourite aristocratic soap. </p><p>Then came a whisper of, "He might be straight…"  </p><p>Harry was more or less sure Dean was blushing. That boy better be thankful his cheeks don’t  flame up like Harry's do. Dean always teased him about how his cheeks flared whenever his crush so much as walked by. Harry hated he couldn’t do the same back.  </p><p>At the same time Harry knew that Dean was genuinely afraid. He was scared that his feelings would somehow ruin his friendship with Seamus. Harry understood how that felt. He remembered how scared he was when he finally came out to Ron and Hermione, only for them to go off about some bet. Hermione won, obviously. </p><p>He rolls his eyes at the pining Gryffindor. "Dean, no one straight would stare a hole in your trousers. Believe me, I'm gay."<br/>
And anyone with a right mind would be if they saw Malfoy  after Quidditch. It should be crime for him to look that good. Harry thinks dreamily. </p><p>Anyway, back to Dean's dilemma. </p><p>"Well, if not straight, Seamus is probably taken." Dean babbles. "I mean, who can resist an arse like that?" </p><p>"Apparently you, since all his passes went over your head," Harry mutters under his breath. "What?" </p><p>Harry panics. Seamus had explicitly told him not to mention his flirting to the oblivious  Gryffindor. Harry was stuck in between the two pining bastards, not able to say a thing. "I said he's always ogling you, you big dunderhead." Nailed it.</p><p>"That's not what you said but okay." </p><p>"Shut up." Harry says, feeling a bit stupid. He only wants his friends to be happy. How was  he supposed to watch his friends dance around each other, so painfully in love, and not do anything about it? </p><p>"Just promise you won't do anything stupid," Dean says, barely audible.</p><p>Harry sighs. "I promise." </p><p>What Harry is going to do this time, is not going to be stupid. Because it’s going to work. Operation Deamus was a go!</p><p>***</p><p>"This is stupid!" </p><p>Harry runs a hand through his hair. It's one of those very rare days he managed to convince  Dean to go outside for 'nature sketching' or some shit. And here was Ron, wasting precious no-Dean time. "Do you have a better idea, Ron?" </p><p>"Yeah." Harry's best friend shouts. He's glad he remembered the Mufflatio. "How about we leave Dean alone? Respect his privacy and all that shite?" </p><p>Harry can understand where Ron is coming from, but he’s not the one that has to listen to  Seamus and Dean rant about how ‘beautiful his eyes are’ or ‘how are his hands so long and  elegant, Harry, HOW?’ or even ‘god dammit Harry I want to shag him so bad’ without knowing the other says the exact same thing. Harry is. And he’s getting bloody tired of the pining losers.  </p><p>"Or we could stop him from ruining his life by getting him together with his one true love?"  Harry tries, putting an arm around his best friend. He tries doing the thing where they gesture  at the air in front of them and the other person just <i>understands.  </i></p><p>Ron is determined to stay un-understood, unfortunately. </p><p>"Come on, Nev. Back me up on this?" Harry pouts at the other Gryffindor. </p><p>Neville is sprawled on the floor, surrounded by Quidditch manuals. Apparently, his mystery boyfriend was really into the sport. </p><p>Oh, and apparently that bloke liked plants too. Odd, the combinations you find these days. </p><p>"Sorry Harry, but it’s really important I find out exactly what the etymological root of the word 'Quidditch' is." Neville doesn’t look up from the tome he’s reading. </p><p>Harry groans. "Please, Neville, don’t make <i>Quidditch </i>sound boring." </p><p>"Then don’t ask him to help, Harry." Says Ron, dragging Harry towards the door. "Leave  Dean to deal with his soppy love life and you and I can go down to the pitch. Ginny's  waiting." He adds.  </p><p>It’s tempting, because Ginny often has brilliant ideas. But at the same time, she was also one of those who knew who Harry liked. There was no doubt Ginny would try set them up again the moment Harry came within a ten feet radius of her. Thus, Harry was avoiding her, for now. You couldn't hide from Ginevra Weasley for long.</p><p>"Fine." Harry snaps. "If I arrange this, that too <i>all by myself</i>, you'll let Nev and me sleep in your dorm, right?" </p><p>"Oh, alright." Ron throws his <i>Chudley Cannons Special Edition Quidditch Magazine </i>across the room. He runs to pick it up again, but physically recoils when he gets close to the pile of socks Harry kept at the foot of his bed. It was quite the collection, and Harry was rather proud of it. </p><p>"Bloody hell, my magazine got sucked into your black hole of dirty socks." Ron wailed. </p><p>Ron absolutely loathed the sock pile. It wasn’t even surprising considering how big of a  mother-hen Harry’s best friend was. He loved it, really. And Harry also loved teasing Ron about his not-so-subtle crush on Viktor Krum. </p><p>"It's not just <i>my </i>dirty socks.” Harry smirks. “I think I've got a pair of Krum's in there from when he and I got randy after Fleur's party." </p><p>"Do you mean the normal randy or the Scottish randy? Synonyms can be tricky you know,  Ron." Neville adds, a devilish smirk on his face.  </p><p>"Because once someone said 'come on snake, let's rattle' and I body-slammed them into the  pool. Turns out they wanted to dance." That was how Neville got laid. By body-slamming his  crush into a pool. Harry could only wish he were that successful. </p><p>Ron looks like he doesn’t know whether to gag or dive into the sock portal to look for Krum's  socks. "You didn’t <i>actually</i> sleep with Krum, did you?" He grips Harry’s shirt, something scary in his blue eyes. Harry had only seen that type of look in his adoring fangirls. Thankfully Ron’s wasn’t directed at him. </p><p>"Is your opinion of me that low, Ron?” Harry says. “No. Actually, don't answer that." </p><p>Neville snickers from behind his <i>Quidditch through the Ages: with Extra Content</i>. He's lucky it's a hardcover. Harry would have chucked some socks at him, but that episode with Dean  yesterday had wounded his pride.  </p><p>Ron still looks a bit sick, so Harry counts that as a win. It was always so much fun to rile up  his best friend. Even more fun than gossiping about boys with Dean and Ginny. Or even chatting with Malfoy with the paper cranes. </p><p>In truth all Harry and Viktor did was play knife monopoly. And frankly that might've been  worse than shagging the Quidditch star because Harry nearly stabbed him once. Or three  times, to be exact. No one actually got stabbed because Hermione said no bloodshed after 12.  And it was 3AM when they began. </p><p>The sock part was true though. Ron might find sweaty Krum stockings if he dug deep  enough. They weren't hard to miss. Very radioactive green with purple polka-dots type. </p><p>Ron looks like he might be getting rattled by a snake when he says, "No Harry, it's not." And this time, 'come one snake, let's rattle' meant fighting. Just so you know.</p><p>"Thanks Ron. You're a good friend.” Harry hugs him, and then adds, “I'll find Viktor's socks for you." </p><p>That was a low blow, even for Harry. It worked though. </p><p>"Right." Ron's ears are red enough to be mistaken for hair. "Thanks Harry. I'll see you?" The  way he left the room could only be described as 'skedaddling'. </p><p>Harry turns to Neville. "Too much?" </p><p>"No." Neville replies. "I think it was just the right amount of creepy. Oh, and you make a  great fanboy. Probably should stop watching so many soaps, though." </p><p>"Why does everyone keep saying that?" he moans. Everyone had taken up hobbies after the  war. There was Ron with his baking, Luna and her tattoos, Theodore Nott’s obsession with swimming in the Great Lake and so on. Neville didn’t have much right to speak either, because all he did nowadays was swoon over his mystery boyfriend. </p><p>Neville grins, something undoubtedly Slytherin in his eyes. "Because it's true, Harry, and the truth is bitter." </p><p>"Fuck you." This time, Harry does throw dirty socks at his friend. </p><p>***</p><p>"You're doing something stupid aren't you?" Dean narrows his eyes. It was at times like these  that Harry wished Dean didn’t know him so well. </p><p>Harry fakes a laugh. The falsetto doesn't seem to work, despite Harry spending hours in front  of the mirror practicing. Just like Paolo from ‘The Heist’ to deceive him. The bastard. "Of  course I'm not. Why would you think that?" </p><p>Dean raises an eyebrow. "Because you're laughing like that." </p><p>"Come on, Dean." Harry shoves him in what he hopes is a natural, playful manner. "You  <i>know</i> I suck at Herbology. If Ron and I fail this term, Hermione is going to put our heads in a  jar." Which was true. Hermione did threaten to do that. No faking there. Harry tried to suppress a shudder at the memory of her fierce tone. </p><p>Harry's friend still looked skeptical. "Fine. Do what you have to." Dean says, turning back to  his sketchbook. </p><p>It’s nice to think Dean trusts his judgement. Though Harry probably just wore him down. Still, he had Dean’s blessing to fuck shit up.  </p><p>Harry thinks the worst of it is over, but then it's not.<br/>
Seamus approaches him in the Great Hall, looking too much like a kicked crup for Harry's liking. "You guys are having a  sleepover and didn’t invite me?" He said, doe eyed as ever.</p><p>Merlin’s blue balls. Harry forgot to tell Seamus! He didn’t think the other boy would finish his lessons so soon. Harry needed to think of an excuse – and fast! </p><p>Harry feels someone kick him under the table. Oh, Dean was <i>so </i>going to get it now. </p><p>"It's not really a sleepover, Seamus." Harry grits his teeth as his shin was attacked yet again. He made a mental reminder never to sit next to Dean. Ever. </p><p>"Ron and I need tutoring in Herbology and since Terry and Kevin are on that Bulgarian exchange programme we thought it might be easier to do it in Ron's dorm." He explains, hoping Seamus wouldn’t see through him like Dean did. </p><p>Seamus pouted and Harry felt Dean's fingers dig into his sides through his robes. And to  think Harry was doing this all for him. Atrocious.  </p><p>Okay, maybe he <i>was</i> watching too many soap operas. Curse Ginny and her telly. If only she  hadn't told him about Jacques and Maria, Harry wouldn't have fallen this deep. Not that he didn’t love it.  </p><p>"But I will be lonely." Seamus said in his thick Irish accent. The one Dean wouldn't stop yammering about whenever Harry was unfortunately available.<br/>
"There's no one else since the Slytherins are going to a party and Justin is in the infirmary." Right. Justin had the  Dragon Pox. Not a serious case though. Harry made a mental note to visit him sometime.  </p><p>"That's not true, Dean's not going." Harry blurted. Immediately Dean stepped on his foot. Hard. </p><p>"Way to wingman, mate," Ron whispered from his other side. Harry retorted with a smack on the ginger’s arm.  </p><p>Harry turned pleading eyes at Seamus, willing him to understand.<i> I’m helping you. </i>If this didn’t work, Dean was going to hand Harry’s pickeled head over to Hermione himself. And Harry did not want to see that day, thank you very much. </p><p>Fortunately, the stars aligned for Harry that day.<br/>
Seamus' eyes lit up. "Oh, okay. It's fine then. Bye." The Irishman scampered away faster than Neville did when he got owls from You Know Who. Harry cringed. Probably should have stuck with ‘Mystery Boyfriend’.  </p><p>Ron looked pretty impressed when he high-fived Harry. Dean on the other hand… Maybe a Quidditch match with Ginny wasn't such a bad idea after all. She would probably have more mercy on him than Dean. </p><p>***</p><p>Okay. This really <i>was</i> stupid.</p><p>It didn't sound like a bad idea when all Harry was thinking about was getting Seamus and  Dean together. Now, spending the night in Ron's dormitory seemed like the most stupid thing  he'd ever done. And Harry did a lot of Stupid Things. </p><p>Neville puts his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Don't worry Harry, all you have to do is walk to Kevin's bed, lie down  and close your eyes. The next part is called <i>sleeping</i>. It might sound a bit scary, but if you  keep your eyes closed long enough I'm sure you can do it too." He says in an unbelievably condescending tone. Like he was talking to a<i> baby</i>. Harry couldn’t find it in him to be miffed. </p><p>Harry pouts. “Walk with me." </p><p>"Sorry Harry, I have a date." Says the heartless troll known as Neville Longbottom.  </p><p>"But this is too stressful." Harry stage-whispers. "And you know too much stress is bad for  the baby." </p><p>Neville raises an eyebrow. </p><p>"Come on Nev,” Harry groans. “You're supposed to say, 'what baby?'" </p><p>"And give into your soap opera fantasy?" Neville snorts. "No way." </p><p>Harry groans. "Fine. I'll try it on Ron." </p><p>"Bye Harry." Neville all but runs away, but not before giving Harry a quick hug. Perhaps he wasn’t as heartless a troll as he made out to be.  </p><p>Even after Neville leaves, Harry continues to stare down the dormitory door. He hoped that if  he stared at it long enough, maybe it would disappear. But it didn't. Which was unfair because Magic. </p><p>"Practicing for your future career as a doorman, Potter?" </p><p>Harry freezes. His heart starts pounding against his chest at a rate much too quick to be  considered normal. He wonders faintly if it's beating loud enough for the blond to hear. </p><p>Unaware of Harry’s apparent crisis, Malfoy continues. "Well didn’t anyone tell you doormen were supposed to let people <i>inside</i>, not block the door?" </p><p>Harry figures if he runs fast enough he might be able to reach the apparition point and then  grab an international portkey to <i>Tippylooloo</i>. Wherever that was. "Oh, err. Hello Malfoy." Or  he could do that… Dying on the inside is good too. </p><p>Malfoy raised an elegant eyebrow. Okay. That was a lie. Malfoy's eyebrows were not the only elegant thing about him. Merlin, the man was like Jacques and Marcel and Abram mixed  into one hot, blond, French piece of arse. </p><p>Harry could only imagine how sexy he’d look, covered in a sheen of sweat. His pale blond  hair sticking to his face. Fucking ethereal. </p><p>"What are you doing here?" Harry blurts, feeling exceptionally stupid right after. He can’t help but over analyse everything. Like how close their faces were… </p><p>"I live here?” Malfoy says, looking a bit cross. “In this dormitory of which you are blocking the door?" </p><p>"Right." Harry said, trying not to make himself look any more like the lovesick fool he was.  "Sorry." He let Malfoy in. And he might’ve stared at the Slytherin’s arse. Harry wasn’t going  to tell. </p><p>"You're pretty good at this doorman thing, Potter." He hums approvingly. "Aren't you coming  in? Weasley told me you and Longbottom got kicked out." </p><p>At least, Jacques, Marcel and Abram weren't arseholes. But unfortunately, that just added to  Malfoy's appeal. </p><p><i>Remember this is for Dean. Remember this is for Dean. Remember this is for Dean. </i>Harry  chanted the mantra until he felt ill. </p><p>"Right. That is exactly what happened." Harry stalks into the room and flounces on the hideously Home Alone themed bed that obviously belonged to Kevin Entwhistle.<br/>
Apparently,  Kevin McCallister was his favourite Kevin. Harry wondered if he should maybe have a  favourite Harry… </p><p>What had Neville said? Oh, yeah. Close your eyes and keep them shut until you pass out. Maybe if Harry suffocated himself with a pillow… </p><p>"Hey, Potter." ...Or maybe we can throw that thought right out the window. "What is it Malfoy?" </p><p>"Is it true you went down on Krum after Fleur’s annual Fête Nationale party?" It must be a  trick of light, because Malfoy looks fairly pink-cheeked.  </p><p>It takes a moment for Harry to tear his mind from ogling the blond and register the question.  As soon as he does, however, Harry wishes he brought Neville's Hippogriff-feather pillow. It  muffled groans really well. "Did Ron tell you that?" He squeaks. </p><p>"No, I saw you both leaving the party. You looked pretty inebriated.” Malfoy had assumed a  conspiratorial air that had Harry in goosebumps. </p><p>This was just like when Clarisse invited Abram to her house to get him to kiss her. </p><p>Except this was Malfoy, and he definitely didn't want to kiss Harry. Clarisse might've gotten her dream snog, but Harry's was going to stay a fantasy. Well, Harry hoped not.</p><p>
  <i>Remember this is for Dean. Remember this is for Dean. Remember this is for Dean. </i>
</p><p>"Actually Viktor and I just played knife monopoly." </p><p>"I was going to insult you but right now I'm really interested in whatever this knife monopoly  is," Malfoy said. </p><p>Harry felt a grin tug at the ends of his lips. "Would you happen to have a secret stash of  alcohol and an unreasonable amount of knives?" </p><p>"I have just the thing." </p><p>*** </p><p>"Hey, Harry did you find Krum's- oh my gods what the bloody hell is going on. Which one of  you killed the other?" Ron screamed. “I knew this would be a bad idea! What with your crush on-“ </p><p>"Relax Ron," Harry hiccupped. Even in his drunk state, Harry was not about to let Ron blurt out his not-so-big secret. "Malfoy and I are just playing a- hic- good old game of -hic- knife  monopoly. Right Malfoy?" </p><p>Malfoy was currently in the middle of pulling a rather shiny knife out of his thigh. "Oh? Yeah, just some knife monopoly." </p><p>"Are you…" It was funny how easily Ron's face went green. He really was like a lanky, overly freckled chameleon. "Is that knife real?" Ron pointed at the knife Malfoy was holding.  The blond was running his fingers over the tip. </p><p>"Of course it is, Weasley. What do you think we are, cowards?" </p><p>Ron promptly fainted. Bless his poor, easily-frightened little heart. </p><p>"Should we tell him the knives have a jelly jinx on them?" </p><p>"Not if that means telling him the blood is actually his homemade jam."</p><p>"Good plan." </p><p>Neville managed to prop the door open despite the very much unconscious Ron perched  against it. "Hey Harry, Malfoy. Ooh, is that knife monopoly?" </p><p>Behind him came Blaise Zabini. “Was a serial killer in here? Oh, it’s just Potter and Draco.” <i> Just </i>Potter and Draco? What were they, some sort of overrated cereal? Harry sticks his tongue out at the dark Slytherin. </p><p>Zabini plops down behind Neville, and snakes (ha!) a hand around the Gryffindor’s waist. He  rests his chin on the shorter boy’s head. Neville smiled like a love-struck idiot. Because he <i>was </i>a love-struck idiot! Oh, Merlin.</p><p>Harry grins widely. "You're dating Blaise!” He exclaims. “Of course, you are. Who else would love both Herbology and Quidditch?” </p><p>Malfoy gagged from beside him. "I <i>know.</i> It's the worst combination ever."<br/>
“Oh Merlin, I can’t wait to tell Dean!" Harry says, just to annoy Nev. </p><p>"Now can we play or what?" Neville bristles, clearly disappointed Harry figured it out. How could he not? Even Harry wasn’t that oblivious. Most of the time.  </p><p>"Only if you swear not to tell Ron it's his jam we're using." </p><p>Neville places a hand on his heart. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."</p><p> "You too Blaise." Says Harry. </p><p>"Fine," he rolled his eyes. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. Now move over, I want to be the bank." </p><p>***</p><p>"So?" </p><p>Seamus turned red. Which was a good sign.<br/>
They were also holding hands, but let's not get too observant, people. "The chocolates were a nice touch, Harry, but I'm lactose intolerant." </p><p>Harry was so going to tease Dean later. </p><p>The Gryffindor kept looking at their entangled arms,  and back to Seamus’ glowing face. Like he couldn’t quite believe it just yet.  </p><p>"I know. I left them for Dean so he wouldn't kill me." Dean elbowed Harry. "Like that." He  added. </p><p>Things were finally working out! For the both of them! Harry couldn’t wait to tell Dean about  him and </p><p>Seamus turned to look at Dean. "But Dean is lactose intolerant too?" </p><p>"Actually, I just said that because I didn't know you were lactose intolerant, and I didn’t want to offend you.” Dean covered his face. “And Harry made me get you chocolates and I panicked." Seamus grinned and kissed his hair. </p><p>"Wait," Harry said, realizing something. "So what happened to those chocolates? The ones  from before?"</p><p>"I gave them to Blaise." </p><p>Neville snaps his fingers. "So<i> that's</i> why he was so keen on declaring his love to me that  night." </p><p>Harry had the choice of either turning himself into a skunk and spraying Dean or … "<i>Harry</i>… What did you put in those chocolates?" </p><p>…Not have time to figure out an alternative and stand there looking like a quacking duck. Of course, he went with option B. </p><p>"<i>I</i> didn’t put anything in them. That French chocolatier guy said there was a little something  that would make you declare your feelings for your one true love?"  </p><p>That was what Van Dyke did to Clarisse when he wanted her to declare her love for him.  Except she professed her undying love for Abram instead of Van Dyke. Plot twists really were something.</p><p>"Harry." Dean gritted. "If you got that idea from a soap opera I swear-" And <i>then</i> he ran. </p><p>***</p><p>"Have <i>fun, </i>Harry." </p><p>Harry was not above begging for his life. He did not come back from the fucking dead for this sort of treatment! "No Dean, please don't lock the door. Please. Please. Please." </p><p>"Now that you put it that way," Harry let his hopes get up at Dean's thoughtful face. "No." </p><p>"Neville?" </p><p>"It was nice knowing you, Harry." Nev shrugs. He was back to being a stonehearted troll again, it seems. </p><p>Harry turned to Ron. "Sorry, mate. An eye for an eye and all that bullshit." They locked the door in his face. </p><p>"So," Harry turned to Draco. "Should we tell them I asked you out during the knife monopoly  game or should we wait until they let us out? Which is never?" Trust the soap opera fanatic to be overdramatic. </p><p>"Actually," Draco dragged his hands along Harry's robes. "I was thinking of something more fun to pass the time." </p><p>"Does it include making weird sounds so they think we're up to something?"</p><p>Draco's eyes light up. Harry wants to kiss him, so he does.<br/>
It’s soft and tender, more ‘I love you’ than ‘let’s fuck’. Draco breaks the kiss to whisper, </p><p>"Let's make it so that they can't tell if we're fighting or fucking." </p><p>"You read my mind." </p><p>***</p><p>Ron took off his extendable ears as Malfoy groaned again. "You think we should help them  out?" </p><p>"No way. I think they're shagging." Dean had his ears pressed firmly against the door. </p><p>Neville shivered. "I love Harry, but I do not want to walk in on him and Malfoy." </p><p>"Guys. That doesn't sound like shagging. It sounds like Harry's getting strangled." </p><p>"Fine." Dean rolled his eyes. "We'll open the door. Nev where's the key?" </p><p>"Neville?" </p><p>*** </p><p>"Three." </p><p>"Two." </p><p>"One." </p><p>"GERONIMO!" </p><p>"DEAN, NO!" </p><p>Dean, Neville and Ron bust into the room. The latter of which was covering his eyes. "Harry, I hope you're decent." </p><p>"Harry?" </p><p>"Ron, they're not shagging." </p><p>"- or fighting." Neville sounded disappointed. </p><p>Harry and Malfoy looked up from their spot on Harry's bed. They had assembled a portable telly in front of the bed. Jacques Milano could be heard singing the theme song of his show.</p><p>"Oh, hi guys. Draco and I are marathoning the last fourteen seasons of<i> Love and Letters: A Story of Love and Letters.</i>" Harry piped up. </p><p>"Maria just found out Jacques was the guy pulling all the hate mail out form her letters and-" </p><p>"-okay they're fine. Let's go!" Ron puts his hands on his ears. "If I hear another word  about <i>Jacques and Maria</i> I will sick up on Harry's sock pile." </p><p>"Bye Harry, Malfoy." Neville shouts, dragging Ron between himself and Dean. They shut the door. </p><p>"Now that they're gone," Draco intertwines their fingers. "How about doing something fun?" </p><p>Harry smirked. "The 457th episode of <i>Winter Love: Marcel and Everrta's mountain excursion</i>?" </p><p>"You mean the one where they kiss near the top of the mountain because they thought they might never see each other again?" </p><p>"Yeah." </p><p>"Marry me," Draco said dreamily. </p><p>"Oh!" Harry grinned." We can do it the way Clarisse and Abram did! With the-" </p><p>***</p><p>"<i>That's</i> how you guys got together?" Lyra gagged, her long blond hair flowing around her shoulders. She had Draco's hair and nose. Everything else was Harry. "You guys are such dorks." Except maybe the attitude.</p><p>"Cute dorks, right?" Harry said. Draco leans on the doorway, watching his husband tease her. </p><p>"Yes, Dad." She rolled her eyes. "Cute dorks. Now go away, I'm trying to sleep and your bedtime story didn't even help. What even was the moral? Playing knife monopoly and  watching an unhealthy amount of soap operas finds your soulmate for you?" Trust a Ravenclaw to try find the <i>moral</i> of a love story. </p><p>“I wouldn’t go as far as to say Knife Monopoly gets you laid, but yes, Knife Monopoly gets you laid.” Says Draco, coming over to rest his chin on Harry’s shoulder. </p><p>Lyra grins. “That was the worst advice ever.”  </p><p>"She's just like you," Harry turns to Draco. "Absolutely adorable." </p><p>Draco plants a kiss on his nose. "Love you too, Harry." </p><p>"Can you guys go be mushy somewhere else? Your absolutely adorable daughter needs her beauty sleep."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi. I hope you guys liked reading this fic... please tell me what you think! I love hearing from you guys :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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